Page 123 of Forbidden Hockey

“I keep telling him he doesn’t need to work,” Maverick interjects.

“Maybe some of us like working for a living,” Dirk says.

“I work for a living,” Maverick says. “But my job is fun. Who wants to flip burgers for eight hours?”

“That’s it.” Dirk attempts to break free of my hold. I refuse to let him go. Maverick doesn’t offend me. To be offended by him, I’d have to give a shit about what he thinks. But I can’t hold Dirk back forever.

“Maverick, if you wanna be here, go sit yourself out of my sight or I’m tossing your ass out.”

“Fine, but can I get something to eat?”

“In a minute. Bryce, get your ass in the kitchen. Dirk will be there to help you when I’m done with him.” My tone leaves no room for Maverick to keep toying with him in here.

“Protective all around today, eh? First your boyfriend and now mine,” Maverick says.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Elkington,” Bryce snaps, heaving the two-way door to the kitchen open with one hand.

Maverick stares after him, and the coiled restraint in his muscles says he wants to follow and drag him back caveman style. He doesn’t, opting for a booth that keeps the kitchen door in his line of sight.

My grip on Dirk hasn’t loosened, partly because I’m not done making it clear who he belongs to, and partly because if my hands are on Dirk, they won’t wrap around Maverick’s neck.

“This is a clusterfuck,” Dirk murmurs.

“Can we trust Bryce not to tell anyone?”

“Don’t know, but don’t think it matters either. This is a sign from the universe that we’re reaching the end of our secret-relationship rope. I’d better talk to him.”

I pull his face in for a kiss. “Go.” My lap is cold without him. When we’re out with everyone, his only seat is my lap.

The day doesn’t get better. I knew the letter was coming, but I’d delusionally hoped Maxwell was fucking with me and the prosecutor that I’d reached out to was in on it. But I can’t deny the bold font on the envelope:

Department of Justice Victim Services Unit

And that feeling from this morning, the one that makes me feel like I’m choking on balls of lead? It’s back with a vengeance. It makes me crave vengeance. It confirms what Maxwell told me—Robin’s getting out. But where will he be? How’s Dash supposed to feel safe with him out there? Bet he spent nine years plotting. Bet Dash is all he’s thought about.

I got Stacey to bring him by the restaurant, so he could help me break the news, but only what he needed to hear. I didn’t tell him how long I’ve known, and I got the sense from Maxwell that Robin would be getting out even earlier than the date in the letter, but I left that out of the conversation, too. The less Dash knows, the easier it’ll be to keep him safe if I need to take care of Robin.

“How do you think that went?” I ask Dirk once Stacey’s ushered him out the door. Dirk stood in the corner. Dash did a double-take when he saw him. Is he getting suspicious? I lean back in my chair, attempting to let the heavy weight settle, but it doesn’t. Everything’s everywhere in my mind. As if it’s marched out of neat boxes where I keep it labelled and put away.

Am I looking for reassurance from a man half my age? Dammit, I think I am. But that’s a good thing. I see him as my partner, my equal.

Dirk locks the office door this time before he makes his way back to me, pure smugness beaming from his mug.

“I think you’re about to have a new son-in-law, Trav.”

“Not what I was asking, but yeah, you saw that, too?”

“I know what you were asking, but I’m too damn happy. Finally.”

Stacey made sure Dash sat in his lap when he was getting the news, and I don’t know if either of them realized they were doing it, but they clung to each other as if they were worried someone was coming to snatch the other out of thin air.

“A crowbar couldn’t pry them apart,” I say.

“Right?” He slaps his thigh, grinning. He’s close now, so I tug him into his rightful place—my lap.

“Was I reading it wrong? I thought you wanted to kill Stacey.”

“Only when he’s being an idiot. You smell good.” He takes a long inhale, resting his head into the crook of my neck. “And if this goes the way I know it will, you don’t have to worry about Dash. Stacey isn’t letting anything dangerous get within a centimeter of him. Did you catch the way Dash relaxed as soon as Stacey took over? Or were you too busy daydreaming about how you’d murder Robin?”